Ghost Stories
by The Mocking J
Summary: Henry didn't mind camping... until Randall and Dalston started telling ghost stories.


_**[[In honour of Henry Week, here's a very late oneshot kind of focussing on little Henry Ledore, with a slight spooky theme since Halloween's on its way. I'd like to dedicate this **__**SamCyberCat**__** and all the Henry fans out there. **_

**Disclaimer: **_**Do not own.**_

**Set: **_**When Randall, Henry, Angela and Alphonse Dalston were kids living in Stansbury. Before teenage Layton came to town and tore these four amigos apart. (I'm kidding, who doesn't love Froshel?). Let's say they're about ten here.**_

**Spoilers: **_**Very mild spoilers for Miracle Mask. I don't even know why I'm bothering with this warning. I'm just paranoid.]]**_

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**Ghost Stories**

"...After that night, the kid was never seen again. They say you can still hear Johnny Saltzman's spirit haunting Stansbury Woods..._WOOOOOOOO!_"

Angela screamed. Henry screamed louder. Randall laughed, "Is that the best you can come up with, Dalston?"

Dalston stopped wailing like an enraged banshee and crossed his burly arms. "I'd like to see _you_ tell a better ghost story, Bratscot."

"Fine, I _will_. It'll be ten times more exciting and scarier than yours."

"Please, Master Randall, no more ghost stories!" Henry begged, hugging his treasured robot toy to his chest.

At first Henry had been thrilled when Randall announced the four of them would be camping in the Ascots' extensive back garden that evening. Mrs Ascot had bought her son a brand new green tent (much to Mr Ascot's distaste). Randall's initial ambition was to camp in the wilderness like a proper adventurer. Well, camping beyond the garden had definitely been a no-go with both of his parents. This hadn't disappointed Randall too much; after all, he still got to camp out with his best friends. And if Master Randall was happy, Henry was happy... Or he _had been_ until Randall and Dalston started exchanging ghost stories.

Snuggling into her pink sleeping bag, Angela said, "Henry's right. Can't we do something else?"

"Don't worry, this will be the last one," Randall promised. "Pass me the torch." Dalston aimed for Randall's head, but Randall caught the torch in mid-air. He held the light under his chin, giving his grinning face an eerie, demonic glow. Henry covered his ears as Randall recited, "Once upon a time there lived an evil troll called _Dalphonse Alston_. He was extremely jealous of the daring, handsome, wonderful Prince Randall. The end."

Angela and Randall dissolved into fits of laughter; even Henry couldn't help chortling. Dalston went beet red with embarrassment and anger. "Shut up!" He glared at them all, but narrowed his eyes at Henry the most, who continued chuckling quietly. The larger lad growled, "You think that's _funny_, Ledore? At least I'm not a big cry baby."

Henry went silent. Randall immediately came to his defence. "Hey, leave Henry alone! _I_ was the one making fun of you— not _him!" _

"He should've shut up when I said so!"

"Stop it, both of you...!" Angela warned them. (Randall and Dalston ignored her.)

"Henry doesn't have to listen to you—"

"Yeah, he _does_! He's just a _servant_—"

Suddenly, Angela surged to her feet. "That's it, I'm getting Margot!" She stomped out of the tent to alert the Ascots' maid. The boys ceased their bickering for a moment. Margot would _not_ be pleased if she was disturbed at this time.

Randall heaved a sigh. "Great. Now we're in trouble. I'll never be allowed to go camping ever again."

"Sorry, Master Randall," Henry whispered; his eyes downcast. He hated to see his friend disappointed.

"What do you mean, Henry?" Randall studied him in shock. "This isn't your fault at all."

"It kind of _is_," Dalston muttered unhelpfully.

Randall shot him an aggravated glance. Then he returned his attention to Henry, offering him a cheery smile. "Don't worry. If my father won't let us camp outside, we'll just put the tent in my bedroom. There'll be plenty of space as long as Dalston doesn't join us—"

"_AIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!" _

The three of them jumped out of their sleeping bags at the high pitched scream. Dalston leapt so far his head hit the tent's ceiling. He asked, "What the heck was _that?"_

"That sounded like Angela," Randall gasped, ripping the tent flap open and racing outside. "Angie, I'm coming!"

"Master Randall, wait!" Henry called. He looked warily from the billowing tent flap to Dalston, wondering if the tougher boy would also rush to Angela's rescue.

However, Dalston was huddled in the corner, whimpering. "D-do you think Angela's okay? What if something attacked her? W-what if it comes after _us _next?"

"I… I don't know…" Henry gulped. He wasn't strong enough to fend off an evil spirit or a monster like the one in Dalston's story. But Master Randall had gone out there. Henry knew he had to follow. Taking a deep breath, Henry grabbed the torch and stepped out the tent. He waved the torch around, praying that he wasn't too late…

"M-master Randall? Miss Angela?"

"Henry? We're right here."

Henry exhaled with relief when the light shone on his companions, safe and sound. Randall was trying to comfort Angela as she hopped around on the grass.

"Ew, ew, I stepped on something _slimy_," Angela moaned. "I think it was a _slug!"_

"Calm down, it's just a creepy crawly…" Randall soothed her, sending Henry an amused smile. "We thought something had happened to you—"

"_ARRRRGGGGH!"_

The trio froze. This time the frightened yell had come from the direction of the tent.

"Dalston," Randall murmured, gesturing for the other two to get behind him. They crept back to the tent to discover a horrified Dalston shivering outside. Margot the maid stood beside him, wearing her purple night gown and a very ugly green face mask.

"What is all this racket about?" Margot demanded. "You four have woken up the entire household!"

"I'm sorry," Angela admitted, "I stepped on a slug and I screamed…." _  
_"Why was Dalston screaming, then?" Randall wondered. Henry glanced at Dalston curiously as he scuffed his shoe across the grass.

When Dalston didn't reply, Margot huffed, "When I came out to check on you, I simply poked my head into the tent and gave Alphonse a bit of a fright. You obviously can't be trusted alone out here. Now, all of you _inside the house _and _straight to bed."_

"Ah, but what about my tent?" Randall whined.

"_In_. _This instant, Master Randall_."

As the children trooped back to Ascot Manner, Randall found some enjoyment in irritating Dalston. "Who's the big baby _now_?"

Blushing, Dalston stammered for Randall to "Shut it!"

Randall caught Henry's eye, and Henry smiled.

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_**[['Margot the maid'… Aren't I original with names? **_

_**This may be cute, but it isn't as good as it could've been, I'm sorry. Ah, well, Henry week's nearly over. Happy Henry week!]]**_


End file.
